


I Don't Know if You Can Hear Me

by orphan_account



Series: God Help the Outcasts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 3 of 'God Help the Outcasts' <br/>Takes place with Young!Sam and Dean, during a dark time in Dean's life, but all hope is not lost when a mysterious character arrives at the boy's hotel room, during one of their Dad's hunting trips</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know if You Can Hear Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this is taking forever to update, but thank you to all who are reading this I hope you enjoy. I promise I'll keep updating it

Chapter 3

The wind howled and screamed at the trees, almost knocking their branches into the thin windows of the motel, some of them breaking open effortlessly. Sam's birthday was upon them now, and yet nobody showed any sign of recollection. Not even Sam himself. Both he and Dean woke up this morning in a rage from the previous night. Neither of them said anything to each other, nor acknowledging one another's presence. It was as if they were nothing but ghosts, drifting by each other.

Yet, something was off. A slight change in the heating, or cooling even. The weather was different than how it should be; darker clouds or something like that. A supernatural breeze blew throughout the town. The boys had never seen anything by the likes of it. It wasn't demons, gods, or even possible djinnss. This was something...different. 

“Dean?” Sam whispered, barely opening his mouth in fear he'd be shot down. Dean barely turned his head, just so he'd be able to see his brother.

“What?”

“It's my birthday.”

Dean sighed, nodding a bit before walking over to Sam, his arms outstretched as he took the boy into his arms. “I know it is, Sammy. Happy birthday.” He slowly discarded Sam from his arms, as he went to the fridge to pull out a cheap pizza-place cake, which was for the most part, caved into the middle. The icing was folded over, practically sliding off of the cake's thin base. It looked far from delectable. 

As Dean was about to take off the plastic coverings, there was a sudden knock at the door. Three little taps. Not their father, he just barged in. Not housekeeping, they didn't order any. So the question was of course, who? 

Slowly, Sam began to stand up and walk towards the door. Dean moved in close behind, in case anything were to happen to his brother. 

Sam swallowed, placing his sweaty hand on the doorknob, as he pulled it open. To his amazement, there was something he had never seen so closely before in the doorway. A girl. A teenage one, about Dean's age. And by god she was beautiful. Long, dark wet hair cascading and curling right by the small of her back. Bright, blue eyes and a toothpaste grin. Seeing Sam, she bent down to his height and gave him an award winning smile. 

“Hello, my name is Cassie, do you by any chance happen to have a spare bed, or area that I can sleep on? Oh it's not just you is it, darling?” She whispered, peering around Sam.

“Uh no, my dad should be coming back soon. Bye,” just as he was about to close the door, her hand caught in it, and pulled it further open. 

Her eyes reflected beams of moonlight, and gave her a certain aura. “Please, I have no place to go. I was just kicked out of home by my father, and my siblings, ones I thought loved and cared for me, watched as I left without a single word. I beg of you. Just one night.” Around her shoulders she held a large, holey wool blanket, with a book bag hanging as low as her feet. 

The second the boy opened his mouth to reply, Dean yanked the door from his grasp and faced 'Cassie' himself. He sent Sam on his way. “Who are you?”

She beamed, her rosy cheeks adding colour to her cold face. “I am Cassie Heart. Or at least, that's what I was called. Named.”

Dean nodded, trying hard not to act too rude or tough. “Hey Cassie. What're you doing up this early all alone. Don't you know that there're some bad folks out here?” He watched her carefully, searching for any sign of demonic possession. People didn't just 'accidentally' stumble across the Winchesters.

“I'll take your word for it, I don't plan on searching for them myself.” She bit her lip, nodding softly and staring into his eyes, as if looking for something familiar. There was something hollow about her—as if all the humanity was sucked out and replaced. Worst of all, she seemed to be almost glowing. 

Cassie cleared her throat softly, regaining Dean's attention. “You have yet to give me a full answer.” 

“Yeah,” Dean coughed, trying to puff himself up to look bigger and stronger than he was. “I guess one night could be alright. So long as me and Sammy's dad don't come busting through the door with some bloody, dead animal.” 

The girl didn't reply, instead she just paraded into the hotel room, slamming her bag down beside Sam on the floor, where he was now sitting. 

“Hello Sam,” She greeted again with a grin.

“Hi.”

“You seem very quiet—very 'out of it'. Is something wrong? Maybe I stumbled in at the wrong moment. Should I leave?” 

Sam sighed inwardly, glancing over at her with sad eyes, filled to the brim with potential tears. “No I—no. I dunno. Maybe.” 

“Sammy, I want you to go to sleep, k?” Dean commanded, standing over the two, arms folded just like his good ol' daddy. “And leave the girl alone—she's leavin' tomorrow and I don't want you makin' a ruckus 'bout it.” Without wanting to hear another word from the opposing side, he turned off the tv and headed back into the bathroom.

“Of course.” Sam muttered, standing up and kicking off his dirt stained socks. He turned to Cassie, who had confusion written all over her tanned face. “He's in the bathroom all the time. I think he's hurtin' hisself.” 

Cassie's lips parted silently, and her eyebrows furrowed together and she stared up at the boy. “Hurting himself how, Sam?”

“I dunno, cuts and stuff. With dad's razors, I think.”

“It's worse than I thought.” Cassie mumbled to herself, before standing up beside Sam. “Your brother is right, Sam, you should probably go to sleep now. Tomorrow is a new day.” 

“It's just Thursday.” Cassie smiled softly to the side, as Sam rolled his eyes and tucked himself inside the flat motel quilt. 

Once she was sure Sam was asleep, Cassie headed to the washroom, pressing her ear against the door. Inside several winces and whimpers erupted no matter how hard he tried to contain them. Cassie felt a tear slide down her cheek, as she let it fall onto her finger, where she examined it. So this is what it feels like to cry, she thought, how human. 

She knocked quietly on the door, trying the knob shortly after. Locked. She sighed, as she forced all her strength into her hand, and broke the lock. 

Dean instantly whipped around, the blade motionless above his bleeding forearm. “Cassie, what the fu—”

“Dean, we need to talk.”

_____________________________________

The two sat on a bench directly outside of the Winchester's room, neither exchanging words, as they both tried not to breathe. A soft breeze blew around them, whipping Cassie's hair around. Trees shook lightly, and the sky darkened every waking moment. Finally Dean sighed, slapping his hand onto his thigh.

“Listen Cassie, you think you can march into my life with your pretty face, and batting eyelashes, and proceed to tell Sammy and me what to do? I have seen things your mind could never even dream of. I don't know what corner of hell you were spat from, but I plan on sending you right on back. So if you got somethin' to say, might as well come out with it before my knife is in that pretty little heart o' yours. Understand?” 

Cassie said nothing, she just watched him, her eyebrows together in despair and confusion. Her eyes were huge and dilated, surprise rushing through her body. “What kind of life have you known, Dean Winchester?” 

“Who are you?”

“I am trusted. And I trust you have a lot you need to tell me.” Cassie moved a hand over to Dean's shoulder, letting it rest there without second thought. 

“Listen sweetheart, I ain't telling you anything, you can march your ass back to hell for all I care.” The hunter stared into the darkness, not daring to glance at the creature beside him. In his mind he slowly searched for all monsters he had ever hunted. Werewolves, djinns, vampires, ghosts, demons. She didn't seem to fit any of the criteria. 

Cassie laughed, a whole sweet laugh. “You keep saying hell, but tell me, what sins have I preformed? What evil task have I attempted? What crime have I committed? Hell is not a place for the ones who are trying to help you Dean. Let me help, please. I can save you.”

“The only thing you can save me, is the trouble it'll take to wake you up in the morning. I want you gone by ten, or you can stay and see what kinda morning person I am.” With that, Dean stood and headed back to open the door, when Cassie's hand gripped his shoulder, sending a burning sensation throughout his body.

“Perhaps you'd let me help if I were of opposite gender? Such as your brother, your father, and of course yourself.”

Dean scoffed, brushing her off. “Just leave me alone, I don't need your help. None of us do.” He slammed the door in her face, letting her stand in astonishment. She watched the heavens, as a bolt of lightning struck the ground, illuminating a large, glorious pair of black wings.


End file.
